If
by multi-fandom-kind-of-girl
Summary: I'll be writting a bunch of stories basically a bunch of What Ifs. ANGST ANGST ANGST THERE WILL BE SO MUCH ANGST I JUST CANT. ALSO I DO NOT OWN THE SELECTION SERIES (or if i do then you will have so much dead characters bc ANGST)
1. Chapter 1

The Great Room was Packed . For once, instead of the king and queen being the focal point of the room, it was Maxon. On a slightly raised platform, Maxon, Kriss, and I sat at an ornate table. I felt as if our positioning was deceitful. I was on Maxon's right. I always thought being on someone's right was a good thing, an honored position. But so far he'd spent the entire time speaking to Kriss. As if I didn't already know what was coming.

I tried to seem happy as I looked around the room. It was , of course, was in a corner, speaking into a camera, narrating the events as they happened.

Ashley smiled and waved, and beside her Anna winked at me. I gave them a nod, still too nervous to speak. Toward the back of the room, in deceptively clean clothes, August, Georgia, and some of the other Northern rebels sat at a table by themselves.

Of course Maxon would want them here to meet his new wife. Little did he know she was one of their own. They surveyed the room tensely, as if they feared any second a guard would recognize them and attack.

The guards didn't seem to be paying attention though. In fact, this was the first time I'd ever seen them look so poorly focused, eyes meandering around the room, several of them on edge. I'd even noticed that one or two hadn't shaved and looked a little rough. It was a big event though. Maybe they were just rushed.

My eyes flitted over to Queen Amberly, speaking with her sister Adele and her gaggle of children. She looked radiant. She'd been waiting for this day for so long. She would love Kriss like her own. For a moment, I was so jealous of that fact.

I turned and scanned the faces of the Selected again, and this time my eyes landed on Celeste. I could see the clear question in her eyes: What are you so worried about? I gave her a minuscule shake of my head, letting her know that I'd lost. She sent me a thin smile and mouthed the words It'll be okay . I nodded, and I tried to believe her. She turned away, laughing at something someone said; and I finally looked to my right, taking in the face of the guard stationed closest to our table.

Aspen was distracted though. He was looking around the room like so many of the other men in uniform, but he seemed to be trying to think of something. It was as if he was doing a puzzle in his head. I wished he would look my way, maybe try to explain wordlessly what he was worried about, but he didn't.

"Trying to arrange a time to meet later?" Maxon asked, and I whipped my head back.

"No, of course not."

"It's not like it matters. Kriss's family will be here this afternoon for a small celebration, and yours will be here to take you home. They don't like for the last loser to be alone. She tends to get dramatic."

He was so cold, so distant. It was as if it wasn't even Maxon at all.

"You can keep that house if you want. It's been paid for. I'd like my letters back though."

"I read them," I whispered.

"I loved them." He huffed as if it was a joke.

"Don't know what I was thinking."

"Please don't do this. Please. I love you." My face was crumpling.

"Don't. You. Dare," Maxon ordered through gritted teeth.

"You put on a smile, and you wear it to the last second." I blinked away the tears and gave a weak smile.

"That'll do. Don't let that slip until you leave the room, do you understand?" I nodded. He looked into my eyes.

"I'll be glad when you're gone." After he spat out those last words, his smile returned and he faced Kriss again. I stared into my lap a minute, slowing my breathing and putting on a brave face. When I brought my eyes up again, I didn't dare to look directly at anyone. I didn't think I could honor Maxon's last wish if I did. Instead, I focused on the walls of the room.

It was because of that I noticed when most of the guards stepped away from them at some signal I didn't see. Pieces of red fabric were pulled out of their pockets and tied across their foreheads. I watched in confusion as a red-marked guard walked up behind Celeste and put a bullet squarely through the back of her head.

The screaming and gunfire exploded at once. Guttural shouts of pain filled the room, adding to the cacophony of chairs screeching, bodies hitting walls, and the stampede of people trying to escape as fast as they could in their heels and suits.

The men shouted as they fired, making the whole thing far more terrifying. I watched, stunned, seeing death more times in a handful of seconds than ought to be possible. I looked for the king and queen, but they were gone. I was gripped with fear, unsure if they'd escaped or been captured. I looked for Adele, for her children. I couldn't see them anywhere, and that was even worse than losing sight of the king and queen.

Beside me, Maxon was trying to calm Kriss. "Get on the floor," he told her. "We're going to be fine." I looked to my right for Aspen and was in awe for a moment. He was on one knee, taking aim, firing deliberately into the crowd. He must have been very sure of his target to do that.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flicker of red. Suddenly a rebel guard was standing in front of us. As I thought the words rebel guard , it all clicked into place.

Anne had told me this had happened once before, when the rebels had gotten the guards' uniforms and had sneaked into the palace. But how? As Kriss let out another cry, I realized that the guards who were sent to our houses hadn't abandoned their posts at all. They were dead and buried, their clothes stolen and standing in front of us. Not that this information did me any good now. I knew that I should run, that Maxon and Kriss should run if they were going to make it.

But I was frozen as the menacing figure raised his gun and directed it at Maxon. I looked up at Maxon, and he looked to me. I wished I had time to speak. I turned away, back to the man. A look of amusement crossed his face. As if he suspected this would be much more entertaining for himself and much more painful for Maxon, he slid his gun ever so slightly to his left and aimed it at me.

I didn't even think to scream. I couldn't move at all, but I saw the blur of Maxon's suit coat as he leaped toward me. I fell to the ground, but not in the direction I thought I would. Maxon missed me, flying across in front of me. When I hit the floor, I looked up to see Aspen. He'd sprinted to the table and pushed over my chair, crashing on top of me.

"I got him!" someone shouted.

"Find the king!" I heard several shouts of delight, pleased with the declaration. And screaming. So much screaming. As I came out of my stupor, the sounds crashed into my ears again. Other chairs and bodies clamored to the floor. Guards yelled out orders. Shots were fired, and the sickening pops pierced my ears.

It was pure pandemonium. "Are you hurt?" Aspen demanded over the commotion. I think I shook my head.

"Don't move." I watched as he stood, widened his stance, and aimed. He fired several times, eyes focused and body at ease. By the angle of his shots, it looked like more rebels were trying to get close to us. Thanks to Aspen, they failed. After a quick survey, he popped down again.

"I'm going to get her out of here before she really loses it." He crawled over me and grabbed Kriss, who was covering her ears and crying in earnest. Aspen pulled her face up and slapped her. She was stunned into silence long enough to listen to his orders and follow him from the room, shielding her head as she went. It was getting quieter.

People must be leaving now. Or dying. And then I noticed a very still leg hanging out from under the tablecloth. Oh, God! Maxon!

I scurried under the table to find Maxon breathing with great labor, a large red stain growing across his shirt. There was a wound below his left shoulder, and it looked very serious.

"Oh, Maxon," I cried. Unsure of what else to do, I balled up the hem of my dress in my hands and pressed it to the bullet wound. He winced a bit.

"I'm so sorry." He reached up his hand and covered mine.

"No, I'm sorry," he said.

"I was about to ruin both our lives."

"Don't talk right now. Just focus, okay?"

"Look at me, America." I blinked a few times and pulled my gaze up to his eyes. Through the pain, he smiled at me.

"Break my heart. Break it a thousand times if you like. It was only ever yours to break anyway."

"Shhh," I urged.

"I'll love you until my very last breath. Every beat of my heart is yours. I don't want to die without you knowing that."

"Please don't," I choked." Aw how sweet." Kriss cooed. Wait, Kriss? "Kriss what the hell are you doing here? I thought you're in the safe room?"

"Rushing to get rid of me America? Eager much? Don't worry, you'll be joining him soon." She said.

Before I knew it, she shot me square in the chest, causing me to fall right beside Maxon who was quickly losing conciousness.

"I-I knew i-it. Yo-you're a-a re-rebel." I staggered.

"No shit America." "Jeremy I got them." She shouted before running away.

I realized Maxon was right beside me during the whole thing silently watching us. By the time I noticed him, we were both lying on the pool of our blood. The bullet that Kriss shot was inside of me, sheathing itself inside my heart. How Maxon could've taken the bullet for me, I had no idea.

"America." I heard Maxon call. Although his voice is weak, he still managed to make it audible enough for me to hear. How could he be conciois through the entire thing, I had no idea. I realized I was staring at his face the entire time so I scooted into his arms.

"America, you're shot."he said

"I know"

"Wh-who shot yo-you?"

"Kriss" There was brief silence before he talked again.

"How funny, the world is in utter chaos we both lie here, in each others arms, slowly dying." he said.

"America, wake me up when it all ends okay?" he says. "No, Maxon. No. Do not fall asleep. Don't you dare leave me Maxon Schearve."

"I'll be waiting for you in the other side." he said before losing conciousness.

As I lie there, in the pool of blood, awaiting death to come and take me, I noticed two things, how quiet the palace had become despite the chaos not so long ago and how chokingly serene this had been.

As the current of unconciousness took me, I embrace Maxon's cold body and let the current of uncertainty take me into the unknown.

* * *

As the two lovers lie there, dead and unmoving, the world continued on, like nothing had happened.

Aspen was the one to find America and Maxon in a tight embrace. Although heartbroken by America's rather abrupt death, he later found comfort and solace in a girl named Lucy.

The King and Queen survived that attack but was crushed when they found out that their one and only child died in the attack. The King later died due to an unknown illness and the Queen later died of old age passing the crown to her sister's eldest child.

The Singers were devasted when they found out of the death of their America. Magda later on died of pneumonia and left the Singer house to Kota and Kenna. Astra grew up to become a beautiful you lady, following the footsteps of her late Aunt America. Gerad later on grew up to become a famous football player and became a three. May grew up and became a world famous painter, occasionally going to Angeles to vist her sister's grave.

Kriss was later found and convicted guilty of murder and treason and was later on sentenced to death.

* * *

 **PLEASE DON'T KILL ME**


	2. Chapter 2

I have a favourite picture of someone I don't know. Her hair as red as the flames and her eyes as cool as ice. She comes to fetch me every morning and send me to my rooms at night. We would walk through the gardens and she would look at me as if she knew something that I should. We would talk to each other all day until someone would approach her and take the smile off her.

I have a favourite picture of someone I don't know. There are laugh lines around her eyes and her smile would make everything okay. She would laugh with me, even at my corniest of jokes and soothe me when the nightmares would come. She would beam at me when I manage to say her name and she would look at me as if I had the stars in my eyes.

I have a favourite picture of someone I don't know. She radiates ion the picture and has an aura of unmistakable grace. She commands respect with her every move and looks at everyone with respect and admiration. She told me one day, she had somewhere to go to I wanted her to stay but she says it's useless.

I have a favourite picture of someone I don't know. She took me to a bench one day and played with the words etched on the stone. She begged me to remember but alas I couldn't. I could remember her smile falter as she looked at me with tears in her eyes. "This is where we first met" she said as she fought through the tears. I wanted to comfort her but I don't know how.

I remember that night, itching to remember what I had forgotten. I did not want to disappoint the girl with the red hair and the cool eyes. Her eyes were as deep as the oceans, losing yourself in it would be an easy task. She had eyes that seems to hold all the world's secrets and more, secrets she knew she couldn't bear. Her eyes speak thousands her mouth could not.

I remember the night she took me out. Out of the room, out of the cage. She glanced at me as we drove by what looked like thousands of people waving and cheering at us. She whispered to me words I can't forget somehow. _"Don't be afraid" she_ said. She waved and smiled at the cheering crowd and stood to the podium and spoke. The people look at her as if she were their god or perhaps something more. _Their Queen._

I remember going back to my room that day unable to believe what I had just realized. The queen is the one escorting me. The queen is the one soothing me when I wake up at night, screaming and thrashing from my nightmares. I remember the next day itching away from her as she picked me up from my room. "Your Majesty," I said as she opened my door.

I remember one day when she did not pick me up from my room. I sneaked out just as a guard passed by. I remember asking maid where the queen was before looking at me sadly and pointed to me what way to go. I remember going down a certain flight of stairs the queen and I never used on our daily walks. I could still see, as if fresh from my mind the stains on the floor and on the walls. I could still see what looked like blood and several holes that looked like it came from a gun.

I remember running down the halls and into the room the queen is staying terribly afraid. I remember asking myself what was I even afraid of as I raced down the halls.

I remember stopping myself as I walked pass a hall with a label on it. _Selection Suites,_ the label read.

I stopped before a door. A door that for some reason looked so familiar, as if I had stood in front of it thousand times before, as I did now. I knocked, once, twice, before opening the door to check if someone was in it. As I stepped in, I could see a wall full of hundreds of pictures. Each picture was different from the rest though they looked vaguely familiar. One picture had a group of four girls laughing at a long forgotten joke, one of which was the queen. One had a picture of a regal looking couple, posing as they tried to look as goofy as they could. But apart from it all was a picture of a wedding, the queens wedding.

Though I was not the nosy kind of person, I wanted to know who the groom was, who the queen married. I remember looking at it unable to believe my eyes. I kept at looking at it unable to believe my eyes. The queen had married me. I am the queen's husband.

I remember tossing and turning that night, unable to believe it. I had married the queen, something that I should remember but I couldn't. I remember giddily wait for the queen the next day, a plan in mind. I remember hugging her when she opened the door and whispering I'm sorry in her ear. I remember the tears she fought back as she sat me down. I remember telling her everything I remember, from the bench in the gardens to the wedding picture in her room.

I have favourite picture of someone I _do_ know. She was my wife and my everything. Her eyes were as blue as the deepest sea and her hair were as red as the flames she is within. We used to wake up next to each other her body pressed to mine. We used to waltz on our balcony to music only us can hear, under the moonlight, under the rain. I used to chase after her, her long red hair billowing after her like a cape and hug her from behind. I used to look at her lovingly as she played the piano, her giggles filling the room as I tried to play the piano myself. _"I love you"_ she used to tell me as I flutter in and out of sleep. _Used to._

I was the first to see the body. Her body is cold and stiff, no longer welcoming. Her red hair is sprawled all around her and her lively blue eyes closed forever. "America?" I whispered hoping to see her crumple and laugh, her laughter shaking her body, but alas no, she didn't. I cradled her lifeless body my tears shaking me _. This is a dream._ I keep on telling myself. This is all but a terrible dream and I will wake up, tangled in my blankets, and America will come running into my room and sing me back to sleep. But this is harsh reality _. No amount of crying will ever bring my America back._

* * *

 **I'm back y'all.**


	3. Chapter 3

He longed for her, ever more so then ever. Her touch was pure bliss, her smile was like being in paradise. And yet, he took for her granted. He always saw her as his best friend and he knew she meant something more to her. He saw beneath the surface and he saw she had feelings for him. But he was afraid. He was afraid that there were cracks, that he saw her wrong, that she never had feelings for him. He's afraid that it would ruin their friendship and that worse of all, he might lose her too. He's afraid because deep down he knew, he has feelings for her too.

People always whispered behind their back. You're both too close to each other to be only friends, they would always say. People always thought that they were in a relationship with each other, because deep down, he wished it too. But he only saw her as his partner, his Harry to his Ron or sometimes, the Veronica to his Betty. They completed each other, without them knowing it. They were inseparable; you'd never see the one without the other and it takes hell to freeze over to see the one without the other.

But one day, they were. One day, she vanished like smoke. No one could even contact her, not even her best friend. Not even him. Their teachers refused to say anything, where she is or if she's okay. Days, weeks, months passed and go and never did she return or even say a word. They felt betrayed, HE felt betrayed. How could she leave without telling them first? And he vowed. He vowed that he would forget her. And try as hard as he could, he could never forget her.

People always rooted for them to be together. Their friends, their family, hell even their teachers. They were the perfect couple, even as friends. She sings, he tries to write with her. He photographs and sometimes she photographs too, much to his annoyance because "her pictures are better than mine". His locker would be filled with pictures. Pictures of her and their friends but her pictures were always on top. Everyone would be on their toes, patiently waiting for the day they'll finally be together. But when she vanished, everyone pitied him. Some were angry with him for some reason, hoping he took his chance when he had it but most of all, they pitied him.

He tried looking for her. He looked far and wide and he could never find her. For years, he looked overturning every rock, searching every nook and cranny for signs of her. Once he thought he had a solid lead. And as soon as he thought he finally found her, she's gone like the wind once again.

So he moved on. He found love in someone as brilliant as her, someone whose fire is as bright as or perhaps even brighter than her fire. She was with him all along and he was blind to her love. Their love for each other was great, yes, but he always knew something is lacking, something is missing. Yes she's nothing like her, but that's all that matters. All that matters is that he is happy and she is happy and everything is right in the world even though it's not.

How cruel fate is. He never knew that the next time they'll meet, it'll be in a concert. She'd be the one performing and she's still sing like the way she used to. Her flaming red hair would still be as vibrant as he remembered it and she would still smile like she used to. She'd still play the piano and if he closed his eyes, he could still picture her playing the same song in her room. She still sang just the way he remembered it, singing the songs they used to write together. She would still lose herself in her own music, and he wished that he could hold her, say good bye to her one last time.

He always regretted the things he didn't do. He'll always regret the fact that he didn't go out with her, not even once in high school. He regrets not seeing her for what she really is. He regrets not listening to his friends and not even trying to court her, not even once. But most of all, he'll always regret that he never tried hard enough to look for her. But at least he won't regret going after her this time.

He ran after her, as fast as his feet could. He ran past her screaming fans and her big bodyguards, past her security team and her people. He wheezed past the concert crew and even followed her to her dressing room. Up close, she's just like how he remembers her, minus the attire and the heavy make-up. She still hums as she prepares her things, still as meticulous as ever. He wants to cry at that point, but his every being told him not to.

"America Singer, do you still remember me?" he asked, his voice cracking. She turned around and he swore, he could hear his heart beat faster than ever. She was just as he remembered it. She still has those vibrant blue eyes that are so full of mischief. She still has the same smile 10 years ago that lights up the entire world. But her face didn't convey the expression he wishes it had. Instead it was full of wonder, of curiosity. It was as if, she didn't know him. "I'm sorry, should I know you?" was her response, careful and polite.

His world fell as her security team escorted him out of the venue. She does not remember me, was all he could think of amidst everything that happened afterwards. He was interviewed multiple times, by the police and her management inquiring him of his intentions. They were suspicious of him naturally but one could not help but pity the man who saw the love his life only for her not to remember him.

* * *

 **Hi guys! I'm so sorry that I'm not consistent but I'll try to update as often as I could. Thanks for always being there and I hope that you'll like this one :)**


	4. Chapter 4

Maxon missed her so much. He craved her. He couldn't stand being away for so long from his America for so long especially after they had their precious twins, Eadlyn and Ahren. Every step he took away from the palace, his _home_ , pained him as much as it probably hurts her. He wanted to be on her arms again, their little bubble of happiness that included her, their twins and soon, Kaden with Osten following no long after.

The public saw them as the "ultimate model family". The people seemed to adore Eadlyn which meant the future of the throne is secure. Though Ahren is in France, their people loved him nonetheless; after all, he is the Prince Consort of the future queen of France.

Long after his coronation and the disastrous affair of the choosing ceremony, people still looked at him with pity and how he hated it. How their pointed gaze would pierce right through him and how their murmurs would seem like shouts to him. They would criticize him every step of the way, how they would compare him to his father or to his grandfather before him. He wanted to scream, "I am not them," he wanted to say, but alas he couldn't.

When America entered his life, everything in the world feels right again. The fire that was her hair seemed in contrast with her icy blue eyes, but together, they make the most beautiful woman alive. He provided stability for her and she in return, gave him a new perception of the world before him. It wasn't after the dissolution of the castes that people saw them, the royal couple as the new hope. _The spark that ignites the flame of nationalism in his people._

Eadlyn and Ahren came more as a shock to America and Maxon. Maxon, who thought he could never conceive a child, was beyond ecstatic when he heard the news. A child! Let alone twins! And when they arrived, he promised, to himself and to his babies that he will be a better father than his father was to him.

He showered the twins with gifts, much to America's dismay. "You'll spoil them before they can even walk or talk!" she'd scold him and though he promised to himself he would not have favorites, he favored Eadlyn over Ahren. Perhaps it was because she reminded him of his late mother, Queen Amberly, but it was more of how she has the exact copy of her mother's personality though people would say she is much more like her father. She had her mother's stubbornness and her father's hard-working attitude. She was his little queen and Eadlyn had her father wrapped around her chubby little fingers.

Mischief runs quite well in the family, inheriting from their dear mother America, who passed it on to their youngest son, Osten, whose pranks were quite disastrous at times but liked nonetheless. Osten was by far the most mischievous of the bunch, often the receiving end of Eadlyn's wrath. He would hide her drawing materials and leave her important documents around the place. America would scold him of course but with a sly wink, he knew that this was America's boy through and through. Osten was like a male version of his mother, from the fiery red hair the both had down to their near similar personalities. Osten is his own kind of person, often the odd one out in their family. While the siblings had the resemblance more on the Schreave side if the family, Osten took after the Singer side of the family. He was most like America, from his looks to his equally fiery personality that mirrors his mother's perfectly.

The heart attack that sent their family into a scrambling mess. Eadlyn didn't know what to do, with her mother's life in balance as well as the selection. Maxon didn't quite know what to do. He wanted to dote on his wife every second of the day, begging to see a glimpse of her beautiful blue eyes. It was in that moment that Maxon realized that home is not where a family resides but rather where the heart is. And when America finally opens her eyes, that when he realized that his home is wherever she is.


	5. Chapter 5

He longed for her, ever more so then ever. Her touch was pure bliss, her smile was like being in paradise. And yet, he took for her granted. He always saw her as his best friend and he knew she meant something more to her. He saw beneath the surface and he saw she had feelings for him. But he was afraid. He was afraid that there were cracks, that he saw her wrong, that she never had feelings for him. He's afraid that it would ruin their friendship and that worse of all, he might lose her too. He's afraid because deep down he knew, he has feelings for her too.

People always whispered behind their back. You're both too close to each other to be only friends, they would always say. People always thought that they were in a relationship with each other, because deep down, he wished it too. But he only saw her as his partner, his Harry to his Ron or sometimes, the Veronica to his Betty. They completed each other, without them knowing it. They were inseparable; you'd never see the one without the other and it takes hell to freeze over to see the one without the other.

But one day, they were. One day, she vanished like smoke. No one could even contact her, not even her best friend. Not even him. Their teachers refused to say anything, where she is or if she's okay. Days, weeks, months passed and go and never did she return or even say a word. They felt betrayed, HE felt betrayed. How could she leave without telling them first? And he vowed. He vowed that he would forget her. And try as hard as he could, he could never forget her.

People always rooted for them to be together. Their friends, their family, hell even their teachers. They were the perfect couple, even as friends. She sings, he tries to write with her. He photographs and sometimes she photographs too, much to his annoyance because "her pictures are better than mine". His locker would be filled with pictures. Pictures of her and their friends but her pictures were always on top. Everyone would be on their toes, patiently waiting for the day they'll finally be together. But when she vanished, everyone pitied him. Some were angry with him for some reason, hoping he took his chance when he had it but most of all, they pitied him.

He tried looking for her. He looked far and wide and he could never find her. For years, he looked overturning every rock, searching every nook and cranny for signs of her. Once he thought he had a solid lead. And as soon as he thought he finally found her, she's gone like the wind once again.

So he moved on. He found love in someone as brilliant as her, someone whose fire is as bright as or perhaps even brighter than her fire. She was with him all along and he was blind to her love. Their love for each other was great, yes, but he always knew something is lacking, something is missing. Yes she's nothing like her, but that's all that matters. All that matters is that he is happy and she is happy and everything is right in the world even though it's not.

How cruel fate is. He never knew that the next time they'll meet, it'll be in a concert. She'd be the one performing and she's still sing like the way she used to. Her flaming red hair would still be as vibrant as he remembered it and she would still smile like she used to. She'd still play the piano and if he closed his eyes, he could still picture her playing the same song in her room. She still sang just the way he remembered it, singing the songs they used to write together. She would still lose herself in her own music, and he wished that he could hold her, say good bye to her one last time.

He always regretted the things he didn't do. He'll always regret the fact that he didn't go out with her, not even once in high school. He regrets not seeing her for what she really is. He regrets not listening to his friends and not even trying to court her, not even once. But most of all, he'll always regret that he never tried hard enough to look for her. But at least he won't regret going after her this time.

He ran after her, as fast as his feet could. He ran past her screaming fans and her big bodyguards, past her security team and her people. He wheezed past the concert crew and even followed her to her dressing room. Up close, she's just like how he remembers her, minus the attire and the heavy make-up. She still hums as she prepares her things, still as meticulous as ever. He wants to cry at that point, but his every being told him not to.

"America Singer, do you still remember me?" he asked, his voice cracking. She turned around and he swore, he could hear his heart beat faster than ever. She was just as he remembered it. She still has those vibrant blue eyes that are so full of mischief. She still has the same smile 10 years ago that lights up the entire world. But her face didn't convey the expression he wishes it had. Instead it was full of wonder, of curiosity. It was as if, she didn't know him. "I'm sorry, should I know you?" was her response, careful and polite.

His world fell as her security team escorted him out of the venue. She does not remember me, was all he could think of amidst everything that happened afterwards. He was interviewed multiple times, by the police and her management inquiring him of his intentions. They were suspicious of him naturally but one could not help but pity the man who saw the love his life only for her not to remember him.

* * *

 **Hi guys I'm back! i really don't understand why do I like giving Maxon or America amnesia lol. I'm so sorry for not updating in so long and I probbly wont update again in a pretty long time. hehehe bye!**


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